A place for Michael and Hank Downtime

Hank found himself standing on a small island, Hart Island. There were many abandoned brick buildings dotted around the island, in surprisingly good shape for having weathered the same storm that broke the city.

 This was not usually a place people could come without invitation (people normally needed to apply and then, a few times a year, they could be taken to visit the graves)… so anyone he saw would likely view him as an intruder here.

 However, despite the somber atmosphere, he did not feel much in the way of malevolence in the area... though it seemed to be an area now devoid of life. Trees grew but seemed sickly, grass grew but was a pale color. It was as though the concept of Death had taken up residence here... and small wonder too. The permanent hole between Stygia and the Fallen World was almost directly overhead.

One brick building in particular stood atop a hill. There was light coming from inside. There seemed to be several individuals whose features were hidden underneath long hooded brown robes. Most sat facing out from the building while some stood guard around the exterior. One rather large figure stood in front of the door with his arms folded.

Hrafen found the island strangely peaceful. Hrafen himself, despite his attempts to focus his efforts around avoiding death to conceal his abilities, was essentially in a long-term relationship with Death... a very intimate connection. His Clan had always had a close relationship with death, and his mass-murders over the centuries had only strengthened that to the point that now he felt almost more comfortable with her around.

Still, he was here to discuss things with Michael. They'd needed to strategize, and Hrafen needed to figure out how to best assist Michael in his pursuits. Although he felt they were slightly naive, Michael's demeanor didn't strike him as naive in the slightest, so Hrafen felt comfortable trusting his assessments.

Approaching the larger figure with folded arms, Hrafen looked quite comfortable in the slight breeze, and he walked up with confidence, assuming Michael was either one of the cloaked men, or they would know where he was. He knew better than speaking out loud, so he simply approached, and calmly waited to see his 'reception'.

As Hank approached, he could tell the smell of death wafted from the cloaked individuals. Walking up to the house caused the individuals to get up and move to surround him. The tall one in front of the door held up his hand causing the others to stop on a dime and go back to sitting where they were. Scars and open wounds covered the man’s rotten arm. He was clearly dead, which meant he was a zombie. “Michael described you to me. You are Hank. Follow me.”The front door opened into a clean living room with some worn chairs and a couch. A large cross hung over the mantle of a well used fireplace. The man motioned for Hank to take a seat as he went over to a door on the far side of the room and knocked once. “Hank is here to see you.”

A moment later, Michael emerged holding the King James Bible with a bookmark being placed to keep his spot. The book was placed on a side table as Michael approached offering his hand to shake Hank’s. “Good to see you Hank. I hope the relative calm has treated you well?”The priest looked over at the large man and motioned to the door. “Thank you Jay. Now please return to your post. Nobody else is to enter understand?”The man nodded and exited closing the door behind him. Michael sits down in a high backed leather chair and kicks up a leg to rest on his knee as he steeples his fingers. “To what do I owe this honor?”

Hearing the zombie address him, Hrafen dipped his head in quiet acknowledgment and followed him through the door.

Sitting, Hrafen sat towards the very front of his seat, as he always did, always prepared to leap up at a moment's notice. At this point, centuries later, it was simply a hard ingrained habit, and he didn't even notice. He looked ultimately relaxed, and truthfully he was, he'd just grown accustomed to it.

Seeing him dismiss the man indicated to Hrafen that he was in charge, which gave him pause. He decided that openness was the best way to approach this relationship,

"Christianity," he said, indicating the bible with his head, "And necromancy," he tilted his head back towards the retreating 'Jay' with a smile, "Interesting combination. You have found it best to utilize something many consider evil to perform good?" he asked an open-ended question, leaving it up to Michael to explain, if he wished to.

If not, Hrafen still had a question to answer,

"I am here for a discussion of our partnership, how I may strengthen it, and what we can offer one another. I am also here to discuss a potentially mutual feeling of kinship, so that I may go forth without worrying about my back." he said flatly. He was not one to beat around the bush, "I offer... much in the ways of violence, but very very little in the ways of defending myself from supernatural attacks." he shrugged, "I think working towards mutual goals would best benefit us. I can learn from you the minimum needed to allow me to perform the violence of my Clansmen on our enemies, and you can benefit from a force that does not require preparation or advance knowledge." he said, leaving it at that. When he spoke of death, it was almost in a bored tone... as if he'd dealt in it far too long, and was simply speaking about grabbing a coffee. Perhaps him indicating to others that he wasn't quite capable wasn't entirely true.

Michael looked over at Jay and shook his head. “Death Magic not necromancy. The two are often confused. They are simply animated corpses with no souls or will of their own. Conceptually, no different than robots. True necromancy interferes with the souls of the dead and communicates with demons of which I have done neither. But yes I still follow the will of the Lord the best I can considering what I am. I cling to my faith that the Lord may use me to protect and further the kingdom of God. So yes I am trying to use what many subjectively call ‘evil’ to do good. Many would call call the Ten Plagues acts of evil to achieve a goal that was ultimately good.”

The priest pondered Hank’s statements and requests. The man was certainly direct and honest. Traits that Michael himself did his best to exemplify and admired. He held up one finger. “We both seem to understand one another. With understanding and keeping to our principles builds trust. I can honestly say that as long as your respect my neutrality and principles then you will not have to watch your back around me.”

A second finger goes up. “I agree that there is much we can do to assist one another. A mutual partnership is almost a given considering our abilities and viewpoints.”

A third raises. “I appreciate your candid conversation and offer of ready muscle.”

The priest then leans forward with his hands crossed on his knees. “As for defense against the supernatural, there are several avenues to go about this with varying degrees of personal cost and success. Could you please elaborate on what you are specifically looking for protection against?”

Listening, and watching Michael count, Hrafen appreciated the very straightforward nature of Michael's speech patterns. It also didn't hurt that somebody like Michael, who knew damn well he was more intelligent than Hrafen, slowed things down and counted them out for him, without pointing out that he might be making it easier for the poor Viking.

Nodding at the question, Hrafen explained,

"There is not much I cannot tear apart with my hands, but I have never needed to fight my own Kindred before, or Magic wielders either. I have little to no defense against mind control, things that force me to do actions unbidden by my own mind. While I may be capable of ambushing a problem for yourself, or say, Reginald, I would then be a liability simply because of the fact that my mind is not immune, or hardened, to these mental attacks." he was trying his best to explain his own weaknesses, but he struggled - as he truthfully wasn't that educated on what COULD be done against his mind.

"I train, and I train often, but my physique is already at a place where it needs little work to do the job of protector, or assassin. My defenses to enable me to utilize my offense is where I need work. I've simply never had a reason to possibly combat other supernaturals before, but now that I find myself in a position to, I need to improve upon my capabilities." he said, shrugging, "Personal cost is not an issue to me, so long as my will remains my own. I do not wish to become a slave to another, in the pursuit of avoiding mental slavery." he smiled, "It is part of the reason I keep such a close eye on our Egyptian friend... I do not know of her true alliances until I know how much control Reginald can exert over one sharing a blood bond with him." he finished, shrugging slightly.

Michael sat and listened intently to Hank request for magical defenses. It made sense. His own powers reflected that same mentality. There was an option open to him. “There is a protective ward I can place on you to give you the chance to fight off mental domination. It would be upon your own strength of will and determination after that. “

Smiling slightly, Hrafen nodded,

"If it comes to stubbornness, anybody that knows me would say 'it would be enough', so I thank you for any help you can give. I simply do not want my form turned against those I deem righteous, simply because of my own lack of need to fight my own kind, or Mages." he explained. He'd never met a vampire or Mage he'd even WANTED to fight, much less need, but times were changing.

Kneeling, as Hrafen was from a time whenever something was given to another it was ordinarily done to a kneeling knight, or similar position, he'd figured it would be very similar, though if he was wrong: he would look quite silly indeed.

There was sincerity in his words and a desire to do what was right. He understood just how terrible a weapon like him could be if turned on his allies. His request was a sensible one. Michael hoped that Hank was ready for this commitment. The priest stood in front of the kneeling vampire and unsheathed Excalibur holding it out to the side. “Speak in your own words your desire and conviction to protect the weak and the abused. To protect those who wish peace in times of war and freedom to live righteously against those who would wish them harm. This is the code of a Protector. Are you prepared for such a task? In return, you may go as you wish with your fate protected from those who would wish to turn you from your oath unless you betray your oath and are released with my words,’ You are no longer a Protector’.”

Hrafen thought deeply on his words. Not a man quick with his words to begin with, Hrafen needed to ensure his oath was exactly what he would be doing. After some time, he nodded, mostly to himself,

"I hold great conviction in the pursuit of protection. Protection for those who need it, and those who are aligned in my pursuits. I wish to protect those who strive for peace during times of war, to avoid unnecessary bloodshed... even if sometimes bloodshed is necessary, I wish to be able to protect those who shed it only because there is no obvious better way. To protect those ganged up on with sheer numbers, and to protect those who fight against the Camarilla, who have been causing unnecessary bloodshed for so long. Those who fight The Aligned of the Sabbat." he said, clearly sticking to his belief that the Camarilla had been unnecessarily injuring far too many parties,

"Until I am released from my duties with those words, I shall protect." he finished flatly. Determined.